


In Vino Veritas

by bright73



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance, Slashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-06
Updated: 2005-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bright73/pseuds/bright73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is he drunk?” Greg sounded like he didn’t believe what he was seeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Vino Veritas

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Hobbesaholic

“Is he drunk?” Greg sounded like he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

Nick cast a glance at the tall, currently very morose CSI nursing a bottle of Tequila all by himself. Somehow they had ended up in a bar on Warrick’s old turf after a case that all three of them wanted to forget. Not only had they made perfect asses of themselves but Cath had happily rubbed it in, time after time, each time they had to get back, change clothes and head out again. They’d spent the entire shift crawling in different kinds of mud, looking for a murder weapon that ultimately was found in the possession of the one they least suspected. Then they’d spent the overtime sorting out their earlier mistakes. And to top it off they had to appear in court this morning and get mauled over another case. So here they sat – clad in suits and moping.

“Yep,” Nick nodded and stared at his beer bottle. He was too embarrassed to even get drunk and forget what had happened. Too embarrassed about drooling over a muddy Warrick that he found too hot for words, which had impeded his actual searching a great deal.

“You two off tomorrow?” Greg asked.

“Yep,” Nick replied, never looking up. It was safer to keep his eyes on the bottle, he felt like he’d never be capable of facing a tax-payer in his life again. All those fancy tests, all that overtime for nothing. And his tie was almost choking him as was the images of a muddy Warrick that wouldn’t leave him alone. Damn, he had wanted to lick him clean. Still did in fact.

Greg sighed. “I have to face Vega tomorrow, ever think about that?”

“Yep.”

“He’s so unusually talkative today,” Greg spoke in Warrick’s direction, “and you seem engaged to that bottle. I am a trainee, remember? I need pointers how to get over these things.”

“Drown ‘em!” Warrick’s voice sounded a bit off and Nick cast another glance in the man’s direction. His face was stern while he looked down at the glass in his hand, swirling it lazily with long fingers. Then he closed his eyes and threw down the liquid with a groan, exposing a chiselled chest under the silky black shirt.

Nick found himself looking at the smooth skin appearing under the silk, a shiver running down his spine. The notion sobered him up immediately. It was late - almost 2 a.m. and they should get going. Greg needed to get home and sleep before his next shift. At the rateWarrick was going, he would need a gallon of pitch black coffee and some greasy food before he started singing something obscene. His eyes already looked dazed, his movements not all too co-ordinated and the voice was two octaves lower than normal.

“C’mon,” Nick ordered as he rose, “I’ll take you both home before we cause another official embarrassment for the great LVPD.”

Greg smirked and followed suit, taking the final sip out of his glass and emptying it.

“You too,” Nick said, nudging Warrick’s shoulder. “You know troubles have a tendency to float and Tequila will only act as conserving liquid, just a fancier sort of formaldehyde if you ask me.”

“Taste’s better,” Warrick muttered and took another sip straight out of the bottle. “Makes Cath’s gloating fuzzy around the edges.”

“So why are you making that face?” Nick pointed out and gripped the fabric of Warrick’s shirt, shivering at the silky touch. Nick licked his lips but caught himself just in time before he actually stooped to drooling. “C’mon! I’ll even stop by your favourite joint and get you a couple o’ Sloppy Joe’s, you fast-carb-junkie.”

With a groan Warrick rose and walked unsteadily towards the exit. “I’m taking the bottle with me,” he muttered and almost toppled over a chair. Nick gripped his arm, laying it over his shoulders to steady the other man. Warrick answered with a big grin, chuckling as he waved the bottle around in a salute. “Da man loves me som’thin’ fierce,” he proclaimed to everyone willing to listen.

“Bro, I’m just saving your ass,” Nick said, cheeks warming up suspiciously, while he steered Warrick out of the door into the dark night.

Warrick slurred something that made Greg look between the two of them and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“What?” Nick had to ask while trying to get Warrick to walk something that at least resembled a straight line. “Talking dirty again, bro?”

This time he was sure he heard ‘you wish’ but the sound was muffled by the traffic and the fact that Warrick managed to take another heavy sip before they reached Nick’s SUV.

They mock-heckled each other outside the truck, trying to insult the other in the most innocent way possible while trying to settle the seating arrangements. “Here I am, all dressed up and you’re tucking me in the back seat?”  
“Stripes Warrick, were you trying to seduce the judge?”  
“All can’t flaunt them hurt puppy eyes like you, Stokes.”  
“I’ll teach you, for a fee of course.”  
Warrick pinned a laughing Nick up against the car playfully when he realized he was losing the verbal war. Deciding to take it out in tickle-frisking the other man instead, having him declare Warrick the winner despite all his current verbal shortcomings. Nick slapped Warrick’s ass, getting his own pinched in retaliation and they were back at the mock-heckling. Finally Greg threw his hands up and volunteered to take the backseat. The exasperation in the younger man’s voice had Nick sober up instantly, pushing a still chuckling Warrick inside . Sometimes they both acted downright juvenile, he had to admit.  
“Sorry ‘bout that man, just having some fun,” he smiled apologetically in Greg’s direction as he climbed in. Greg rolled his eyes and told them he wished they’d finally get it on before it killed them both. Casting a glance at Warrick he felt himself blush at the innuendo. Warrick just looked to the dashboard, reaching for the stereo, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Nick was all sweaty when he finally got himself seated and ordered the other two to buckle up.

“How sweet,” Warrick said in a sugary voice, leaning in to ruffle Nick’s hair. “You worried I might get hurt, my sweet little rancid buttercup?”

“You’re still on the losing streak, man,” Nick chuckled, “my sweet little verbally challenged honey-bun gone cliché. And put that bottle away while I’m driving. I’m not about to watch you do dental-surgery on yourself in my car.”

“How adorable, he truly is worried; my little perfectly cut Texan beef.”

“Would the two of you at least get me home before you start making out?” Greg groaned demonstratively and Nick rolled his eyes.

“Shut up Rick, you’re giving me pictures I might have to seek therapy for.”

“I’ll be your therapist, my lovely little meaty pop-sickle.”

Nick threw a surprised glance over at the man sitting by his side.

“That didn’t quite come out right,” Warrick laughed and took another sip. “I’m talking too much, ain’t that right? Damned.”

“In vino veritas. I just wish I wasn’t here to witness this,” Greg huffed and made a big scene out of covering his ears.

Warrick cast a murderous glare to the back seat and tucked the bottle away before resting his head against the side window. “Just drive,” he groaned, “before I say something I’ll truly regret.”

Nick chuckled happily when he pulled out and set his course to Greg’s place.

 

 

After a swing by the diner, where they picked up a meal that would suffice for a small army and dropping a mildly irritated Sanders off they finally arrived at Nick’s place. Shutting off the ignition Nick turned to look at Warrick, he seemed to have sobered up a bit thanks to the fatty food he was throwing down at an incredible speed.  
Nick pensively fiddled with the keys, he felt a tad bad about ditching Greg like that.  
“You think I should call Greg? He didn’t look happy when we dropped him off, is he gonna be okay?”

“Sanders just wants you for himself, Stokes. He’ll be fine after he’s moped a while.”

Nick cast an annoyed glance over at the happily munching man, “What? I’m the office, pardon the expression, slut all of a sudden? And are you gonna eat all of ‘em? Save some for me will you? Seriously, he looked all but happy when we dropped him off.”

Warrick took another bite of the sandwich; “you’re so oblivious at times, Stokes.”

“And you’re so plastered you’re bordering on delusional Warrick,” Nick retorted and slid out to stretch his weary legs. “You think you can manage to walk by yourself by now or do you still need a helping hand?”

Warrick smirked, dropping the half eaten sandwich back into the bag. “Hey, you’re talking to a man that can hold half a bottle of Tequila and five Sloppy Joes with style, what’ya think?”

Nick opened the passenger door and peered at the man inside. “Yeah yea, the manly man as always bro, but I’d forget the style part if I were you.” Poking Warrick in the ribs he grinned. “Your flaunting is worthy of the showgirls at Rampart. Only they’re getting paid for it. You’re just getting a cold.”

Warrick eased himself out, managing both the bottle and the bag with the rest of the meal surprisingly well. “Cold?” Warrick gripped Nick’s wrist and pressed the palm of the hand up to his bare chest; “I’m a warm-blooded man that can stand both Tequila and anything Las Vegas can dish out, man!”

When the palm of Nick’s hand was pressed to the cool skin they both inhaled sharply, eyes meeting fleetingly at the sensation. Neither of them moved, they stood there for a moment, breaths running faster and eyes on each other’s hands.

Nick felt the steady heartbeat increase in pace under his touch and swallowed. Warrick’s hand over his wouldn’t let go of its grip. Finally Nick raised his eyes to meet with Warrick’s. Quizzically he raised his eyebrows and Warrick smiled and let go of his hand.

“Let’s get inside, it’s getting hot out here.” Warrick’s voice was low and vibrating, his eyes never leaving Nick’s and Nick cursed himself for blushing when Warrick’s arm snaked around his waist. He got even redder when their hips grinded together as they made their way to the door. He prayed to every god he’d ever heard of not to let Warrick spot his erection. Warrick was just kidding in his usual style; he couldn’t know the effect it had on him. Warrick had no idea that he had dreamed about this for years on end. Now, having Warrick this close he had to bite down on his lip not to groan out loud at the mere sensation of the strong body moving close to his, the scent and the sound of Warrick’s slightly rushed breath.

He fumbled with the key, hands shaking as Warrick’s side pressed up against his back and the man chuckled into his ear as he picked up on the fumbling hands. Nick cursed. And steeled himself enough to insert the key and turn it. They almost fell inside as Warrick’s weight leaned in closer just as Nick got the door open. The package with assorted fatty foods fell to the floor. Warrick mumbled something under his breath as he stumbled in and placed the bottle he seemed to be guarding with his life by the phone. Then he turned and walked up to Nick, pressing him up against the wall and leaned his brow on Nick’s, fixating him with the green, cat-like eyes.

“Warr -,” Nick’s voice was low and trembling when he met the other man’s eyes. Reflexively he licked his lips, wanting to kick himself as he realized what he was doing. Warrick was looking at his lips with half-closed eyes. His own fell shut as Warrick’s lips touched his, with feathery lightness at first. At Nick’s willing response Warrick’s tongue slid in between his lips, taking possession and Nick’s knees buckled and he groaned into the kiss, having to take a grip on Warrick’s hips not to slide down from pleasure and shock.

A hand reached into his hair, tugging at it slightly as the full weight of Warrick’s body was pressed into his and his eyes flew open at the sensation of a straining erection that wasn’t his.

Warrick pulled away and fixated him again, the green eyes now narrow slits and lips curled into a strange kind of smile. “I wasn’t kidding Nicky,” he whispered before he took possession of the lips again, kissing him till Nick ran out of air and his ears started humming. Breathless and panting Warrick broke the kiss off, looking at the lips of the smaller man once again, this time licking his own.

“Your bottom lip is trembling Nicky, stop that. It drives me crazy.”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh but the laughter got stuck in his throat when Warrick's lips latched on to the sensitive skin under his ear and hands tried to wander up under his jacket but failed to open the garment without losing the bodily contact. Instead he pressed his erection into Nick’s thigh and Nick bit down slightly on the exposed collar-bone. Warrick shuddered.

“You need to get those clothes off Nicky,” Warrick mumbled with his lips pressed to Nick’s neck. With a last kiss he let go off Nick and picked up the remains of their breakfast off the floor.

“Come to think of it, I need to put these Sloppy Joes into the fridge before they become a biological hazard.”

Nick was left swaying slightly on his feet, wondering if what he thought just happened actually had happened or if he had hit his head somewhere along the line and was hallucinating? On slightly shaking legs he proceeded to the kitchen, snatching the bottle on his way and taking two sturdy gulps of the remaining Tequila. He had to stop as the liquor burned its way to his stomach. “Wow,” he let out before he rambled into his kitchen, taking another sip before he set the bottle down on the counter and turned to watch a grinning Warrick who had gotten rid of the jacket and the shirt.

“Still fully clothed Stokes? Can’t have that.”

He had to grip the kitchen counter at the sight in front of him. No, he must be hallucinating because this wasn’t happening. No way. Warrick in his kitchen, lean and strong with those lickable abs all exposed. It was getting to be too much and he was afraid he’d go off from the visual alone.

But Warrick closed in on him, nimble fingers starting to open the buttons of his jacket, sliding it down his arms and loosening the tie. Nick was beginning to feel the relaxing effect of the booze in his limbs and started to grin widely, maybe he wasn’t dreaming after all. Maybe he finally had Warrick at his reach. He promptly decided that whatever had made this happen, he wasn’t about to let it slip out of his hands. Whatever happened after this, he’d touch the man or die trying.

“That some kind of chastity belt Rick?” He chuckled at the hideous belt buckle while letting a finger run along the curved side, fingertip brushing against the taut abs. Watching mesmerized as the muscles tensed and flexed. God, how he wanted to suckle and kiss that skin.

“Mockin’ the man are you?”

“Not the man,” Nick grinned, “just the god awful belt buckle. All the rastafaris of the world should be collectively and royally pissed off on Bob’s behalf if you ask me.”

Warrick laughed and gripped the tie still hanging loosely around Nick’s neck. “Say’s the one with the tie that screams repressed Texan. You don’t like it, take it off!”

Nick raised his eyes to meet Warrick’s. The green was vivid, laughter playing in them.

“Rick – you really sure about this or is it the booze talking?” He just had to ask, he didn’t want to take advantage and ruin what else they already had.

“As said, repressed beyond belief,” Warrick moved in closer, smiling while he fiddled with the tie around Nick neck. “Do you know how hard it was to concentrate when we were crawling in that mud looking for that fucking gun? When all I wanted was to put my arms around you and wrestle you down and fucking kiss you senseless? Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to have you? Every time you fucking look at me with those eyes you do something to me.”

Nick let the pad of his thumb run down Warrick's cheek, down the jaw-line and to the strong neck where he cupped his hand and pulled until the other man’s parted lips slowly met his.  
“Nicky,” Warrick whispered hoarsely before their lips met. This time the kiss was tender and slow, making Warrick melt into Nick’s embrace like a warm blanket. The skin was hot against Nick’s palm, the scent of Warrick sending him into sensory overload. At Warrick’s soft groan Nick upped the ante and kissed him feverishly, getting a response in kind.

“Jesus, Rick!” Nick panted as they broke free and Warrick unceremoniously took off his tie and shirt, letting them fall to the floor, hands wandering on his bare skin, making his breath hitch while he fought the offensive belt buckle with shivering fingers. Finally he managed to open the zipper and lay his hand on the erection behind silky boxer shorts. “Want you,” he got out between ragged breaths, cupping the other man, reveling in the tightening embrace.

“Bedroom,” Warrick groaned into his ear, “now!”

Getting there took a sweet eternity, shedding clothes on their way as they bumped up against walls, fondling and grinding while their tongues licked and probed, teeth nibbled on sensitive areas and hot breath breezing over damp skin until they fell into a heap on the bed.  
Nick had to close his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t stand for long if he didn’t get a breather. The sensation of Warrick nibbling at his neck was enough to send acute shivers down his spine, right down to his groin where the erection was getting close to painful by now. He didn’t want this to be over just yet, this he wanted to savor like perfectly aged wine.  
But Warrick didn’t heed; “You’re killing me, Nicky. I can’t take much more. Need to touch you!” His hand closed around Nick’s erection and Nick arched into the touch, sliding his hand down the lanky hips of the other man and found the silky smooth length, fingers exploring softly until Warrick hissed and pushed up into his hand. Biting down on his lip not to come right away he moved his hand up and down, slowly at first, then faster, concentrating at the head. Warrick groaned and scooted closer, a possessive leg landing over Nick’s, hand gripping the bed cover hard when he arched into Nick in pre-orgasmic bliss with a strained moan. Nick let his lips close around the erect nipple, playing lazily with it, breathing in the scent of musky arousal. Warrick’s hand cupped around his neck, thumb drawing slow circles on the thin skin, then running lazily down his back to rest on the small of his back. The callused and warm hand aided in pressing his erection into Warrick’s able touch, making Nick mumble incoherently. Nick retaliated by cupping the balls of his lover, one finger pressing behind them, at that tender spot so often forgotten.  
Warrick jerked. “Fuck Nicky, I’m -,” the rest of the sentence was muffled in sounds of ecstasy as Warrick’s body tensed before letting go powerfully, bathing them both with the sticky hot release. Lips resting against Nick’s temple and what sounded like something between a sob and a growl escaped him before he sank back on top of Nick, relaxed and heavy. Capturing Nick’s erection between the two of them and grinding rhythmically against it. Nick buried his face in the crook of Warrick’s neck at the sensation of the man he had been lusting for so long coming all over him, fingers gripping the strong thighs moving against him, pulling him even closer. White lights flickering behind his eyelids when he stifled his voiced passion against Warrick’s hot skin and released in long shivering shots.

They lay there in a heap, trying to gather their bearing. All Nick heard was Warrick’s raspy breathing, the chest heaving on top of him, he felt cocooned by Warrick’s possessive grip on his body. His breath was still running uneven, limbs heavy and totally relaxed in the strong arms. He smiled wondering how long it would take before either of them mustered the strenght to say something. And what was there really to say anyhow?

“You okay?” Warrick asked at last, moving off him to pull the covers over them. Smiling as Nick pouted when he pulled the covers out from under him. He placed a kiss on the pouting lips before he snaked an arm under Nick’s neck. Pulling him to rest by his side.

Nick eyes opened slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be? Second thoughts Warr?”

Warrick grinned and kissed his brow, “You’re a damned hard man to seduce Stokes. If I’da known all it took was a bare chest and Tequila I wouldn’t have walked without a shirt from day one.”

Nick laughed softly, scooting even closer and nibbling at the tantalizing earlobe at his reach, “I now have all my troubles of getting you the right Christmas present solved.”

“Tequila? Forget it, but you can manhandle me every day you wish. But you knew that already, didn’t you? Just playing hard to get, isn’t that right, Nicky?”

“I was thinking about a new belt buckle.”

Warrick snickered and bit softly at the curve where Nick’s neck met the shoulder; “Fuck you Stokes.”

“Promises, promises,” Nick mumbled, hiding his face under Warrick’s chin, kissing the pulse point. “And this time I’m gonna hold you to them.”

“Ha! You know all you have to do is tremble with your lower lip and give me those I’m-so-cute-I’m-dangerous-looks and you can have your way with me. “

“Cute? What the - shut up and get some sleep Rick.”

“So bossy in bed,” Warrick complained wearily, fingers wrapping lazily around Nick’s.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.

“Promises, promises.”


End file.
